


this town will never change

by sanhascroissant



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Author Projecting onto Jaemin, Best Friends, Coming of Age, Hurt/Comfort, Leaving Home, M/M, Non-Linear Narrative, Sad with a Happy Ending, Wanderlust, implied happy ending, librarian jaemin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-02
Updated: 2019-11-02
Packaged: 2021-01-16 19:43:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21276665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sanhascroissant/pseuds/sanhascroissant
Summary: Na Jaemin’s forever is full of constants. Lee Donghyuck is the exception.





	this town will never change

When Lee Donghyuck walks into the library on a Sunday morning, sunshine streaming in behind him, Jaemin is surprised to say the least. But Donghyuck is beaming, grinning ear from ear and he says, 

“Jaemin! Oh my god, it’s been forever.”

It really has, Jaemin muses. Two years is like a miniature forever when you haven’t seen one another. But now Lee Donghyuck is back, and Jaemin feels his soul settle a bit in his chest as Donghyuck hops up on the counter and begins chattering away, telling Jaemin all about his time at college, about the new things he’s learned, all the places he’s been.

He tells Jaemin about a trip to Canada, taken on a whim with his college friend Mark, and how it turned into a bit of a tour of America, even going to Mexico for a while. 

When Jaemin’s shift ends and they decide to go to the nearby boba shop, Donghyuck finally pauses, eyes alight with warmth, honey dripping from his irises, and he asks,

“So, Jaemin, what have you been up to?”

Jaemin sips his tea, because what does one say to that?

“Oh, you know. Same old, same old.”

✯

Jaemin had been a good student once. Probably still _is_, or would be, if he ever did his homework.

“What the fuck,” he groans, running a hand through his hair, the other clutching the pages of his book. Renjun snickers from across the table. 

“What?” Jaemin looks up, and Renjun looks amused, eyes twinkling in the harsh lights of the library, fingers paused over the keys of his laptop. His eyes fall down to the book in Jaemin’s hand and he winces. “Still not done?”

“No,” Jaemin says, letting the book fall closed. He leans back in his chair, Renjun’s eyes follow him, concerned. “It doesn’t matter how many times I read this, I still don’t understand it any better.” Renjun’s mouth twists in sympathy, but he’s already back to typing. Jaemin’s is just one of many crises. 

“What are you working on?”

“College apps.”

A metal band settles around Jaemin’s heart, squeezing inward, chest expanding with the pressure. “Ah, yeah. Another essay?”

“Yeah.” Renjun rolls his eyes. “I’m tired as fuck.” His fingers fly across the keys, long and slender, and Jaemin thinks absentmindedly that they were made for much more beautiful things, like painting. 

“Still,” Renjun continues, eyes fixed on the screen. “It’s kind of exciting, going off to college. Seeing new things. Getting out of this city.”

Jaemin’s mind goes blank, filled by static noise and the thought of a thousand empty documents and crumpled up pieces of paper in his wastepaper basket. 

“Yeah,” he says, turning back to his book. “I can’t wait.”

✯

He drives Donghyuck to the beach the next week in the early morning, the windows down and the pale sunshine glancing off of Donghyuck’s skin. He’s wearing sunglasses, the line of his neck pretty, delicate as he throws his head back to laugh.

His skin is golden, eyes bright and full of so many sights that Jaemin will never see. It’s oddly captivating, but Jaemin fixes his eyes on the asphalt stretched out ahead of them, the cornflower blue sky peeking out through the clouds, the song playing on the radio.

When they reach the beach, Jaemin watches as Donghyuck rushes into the waves, already up to his calves by the time that Jaemin has sunk his toes into sand. He waves to Jaemin, grinning, as the sun breaks through the cloud cover, sunbeams streaming down over the sea to the sky.

Donghyuck gestures for him to stand beside him in the waves, and to his own surprise, Jaemin finds himself pulling off his socks and shoes to join him in the water, smile growing across his face.

It’s cold, but Donghyuck’s smile is full of warmth as Jaemin ventures into the waves, jeans pulled up as high as they can go.

“The water in Miami is so much warmer,” Donghyuck says, musing. “Maybe it’s crazy, but I still somehow prefer the water here. No place like home, after all. You know?”

Jaemin looks out onto the misty horizon, the end of the land that he has always called home, and when he turns to Donghyuck, he meets his eyes and they’re searching, taking in Jaemin’s face.

“Well, of course you know that,” Donghyuck says quietly. The wind pushes his hair gently back from his forehead, teasing and playing with the strands. “I don’t know why I asked.” 

Jaemin smiles, tinged with melancholy, and turns his eyes back to the horizon. 

✯

Chenle and Jisung still visit after school to do their homework, Jaemin manning the front desk. They meet up on the weekends, and the three of them go bowling and dancing and roller skating and try to forget that they’re about to move on too.

“Donghyuck hyung called me the other day,” Jisung says offhandedly to Jaemin as they’re getting ice cream on a Saturday afternoon. Jaemin hums in acknowledgement. Is this cookie dough? Or chocolate chip? He licks the cone. Definitely cookie dough.

“He says you’re not answering your texts,” Jisung says, persistent. Jaemin lifts his eyes from the cone to meet Jisung’s. 

“Text him back, hyung,” Jisung says. “Seriously.” He pauses, and grimaces. “He’s getting annoying.” Jaemin barks out a short laugh at that, leaning back in the booth and gazing out the window to the busy street, cars rushing by, the sidewalks strangely empty.

“Hm.” Jaemin leans forward on his elbows and takes another bite of ice cream, considering it. “Maybe.”

✯

Jaemin’s hands are sure on the steering wheel, driving the familiar roads at night with Jeno beside him in the passenger seat. Music plays softly over the radio, the drive home from Renjun’s house spent in peaceful silence — Jeno is a good companion like that.

His skin is illuminated by the white light from his phone screen and the passing gold of the streetlights, hair falling over his forehead softly. 

“You know, I like this city,” Jeno says, suddenly. In his periphery, Jaemin sees him turn his phone off and letting it fall unto his lap, eyes fixed on the road ahead, the familiar street signs, every tree an old friend. Jeno is smiling.

“Me too,” Jaemin says. Dangerous waters.

“I’m not like Donghyuck,” Jeno says, continuing with a frown. “I don’t hate it here the way he does. He acts like he wants to crawl out of his skin nowadays, too excited to leave.”

“He’s outgrown this place,” Jaemin says simply. “It’s only natural that he’s excited to not have to be so cramped anymore.”

Jeno hums in acknowledgement and silence falls again, and he drums his fingers on the steering wheel. They stop at a red light, and Jaemin glances over, and says, “But you’re still leaving. We’re all leaving.” The tang of a lie on his lips.

“Yes,” Jeno says reluctantly, lips downturning at the corners. Of all their friends, Jeno is a drifter, unsure, always hovering in between yes and no. He sighs, and says, “But I _have_ to do this now.”

Contemplation mixed with fear and fierce determination swirls in his eyes. In a voice so small that it’s barely audible over the car’s engine, he says,“I’m scared that if I don’t leave now, I never will.”

Jaemin doesn’t flinch. Just says, “Is that such a bad thing? To stay here?”

Jeno hums, nods. “I think so. Everything changes. I should probably get better at accepting that.”

Jaemin’s heart sinks as he nods. 

He smiles at Jeno, pulling up to the curb. “When did you get so wise?”

Jeno snorts, already halfway out the door. “I don’t know about that. See you Monday.”

He leaves with a wave over his shoulder, and Jaemin watches him until his mom lets him into the house, his shadow clear against the light in the frosted glass of their front door.

He listens to sad songs all the way home. 

✯

The first month or two is the hardest, the absences clear in everything. Donghyuck no longer comes and sits on the counter in the library, Renjun doesn’t come over on the weekends, Jeno isn’t even online to play games with anymore. 

Jaemin reacquaints himself with a city he thought he knew totally. He walks the familiar streets at day and drives them by night, radio soft and quiet, heart aching at the empty spaces, trying to relearn the city without his friends. 

Chenle and Jisung are still around, but Jaemin knows deep down that they, too, are going to fly the nest, go and find bigger and better things. 

He chose this for himself, and it was the right choice. He knows that to be true down to the marrow of his bones, is aware of the weight of truth in his chest, feels it in the way his shoulders lighten with each passing day, the new spring in his step, the way he sometimes feels now as though he is walking on air.

He knows it was the right decision for him. But it hurts to have to answer to the questioning stares of his family, the shock of his old classmates, the disappointment that he inflicts on himself, the constant question of _am I doing enough?_

_I am, _he answers himself, putting a book back on a shelf. _I am doing enough._

It’s not his fault if the world disagrees.

He reads books to young children on Wednesdays and goes out to brunch with his mother on Saturdays. He volunteers at a local soup kitchen and is trying to learn english in his spare time. He stops after work every day to pet the cat that lingers on the street corner, and always pays his rent.

_Yes,_ Jaemin thinks._ I am doing enough. _

✯

“We’ll all stay friends after you guys leave, right?” Chenle asks, late one night.

“Of course!” Donghyuck swings an arm around his shoulder. They’re in Renjun’s bedroom, soft blue light emanating from a string of large plastic stars, already beginning to fade into purple, highlighting the planes of Donghyuck’s cheeks. 

Jaemin leans against Renjun’s bed, Jeno and Jisung by his side, and smiles along. The warmth in the room is overpowering though the fall air just outside is icy and unforgiving. Jaemin reaches up to touch the window and his fingers burn with cold.

Renjun lays down against the carpet, eyes closed, humming to the song that plays from his speaker, connected to Donghyuck’s phone.

“Nothing can split us apart!” Donghyuck declares, a bold statement to make as the one planning on moving the farthest across the country. “Friends forever, right?” His cheeks are flushed as he meets Jaemin’s eyes, the other drifting off thanks to the music and the late hour, the warmth and the friendship that ties them all together.

Jaemin nods, and feels himself near bursting. He wants to tell them all the truth.

A smaller part of him whispers that he wants to tell Donghyuck how beautiful he looks in this light. He remembers that Donghyuck is leaving, that they all are, and he decides not to.

“Of course.” 

✯

It’s a hot summer’s day when Jisung and Chenle leave for college. They’re going together, joined at the hip as always, taking a train out of town to their new campus.

“Text us,” Jisung says, Chenle nodding vigorously beside him. 

“Every single day, hyung!” Chenle frowns and crosses his arms. “I’ll be pissed if I don’t hear from you again.”

Jaemin sniffles, eyes watering. “Of course I’ll text you guys,” he says. “I’m going to miss you two so much.”

It’s somehow worse the second time around, knowing what he’ll have to face in the coming months, knowing that their absence leaves a palpable hole, knowing that no matter how much they text, things can’t stay the same. 

Jaemin hugs them both again, holding on to them tightly, tucking is head over their shoulders, trying to remember what it feels like to have them within arms reach. Finally, he lets them go and sends them on their way.

“Goodbye,” he whispers, but they’ve already gone too far away down the train platform to hear, being fussed over by their parents. Jaemin smiles, melancholy, and leaves.

He doesn’t look back. 

✯

“I’m not going to college.”

Jeno’s mouth is open, his conversation with Chenle trailing off into total silence. Renjun is the first to move, closing his notebook slowly and sitting up from where he’d been laying on the grass to be level with Jaemin, concern filling his eyes. Jisung blinks, looking at Jaemin as though he’s sprouted a second head.

He doesn’t know why he says it. The deadlines for applications have passed, now, and he’s tired of keeping it from them. That’s the crux of the whole thing, really. He’s tired.

“I’m tired,” he voices. He fixes his eyes on the grass and dirt beneath it, desperately trying to escape their eyes. Into the silence, he says, defeated, “So tired.”

Na Jaemin, straight A student, all advanced classes in his senior year, spotless record, glowing recommendation letters — and yet he is doing nothing with it. The feeling of failure robs his breath from his chest, anxiety chained to his being, and god he so desperately wants to shove it off and escape.

“It’s okay,” Donghyuck says softly, silence broken. “Of _course_ it’s okay, Jaemin. We’re your friends.” He reaches out, tentative, and puts one hand on Jaemin’s shoulder. His eyes are wide, too kind, too understanding.

“We just want you to be happy.”

Jaemin feels something in himself come undone, and he bursts into tears. 

✯

He’s a fixture of this town, now. 

The others come back every so often — all of them have, at one point or another, but not Donghyuck, not until now. Donghyuck was always consumed by wanderlust, always someone too shiny to touch. Always three steps ahead, just a bit out of reach. 

He’s like a mirage — an apparition, promise of safety and comfort and something wonderful, but never truly there, never meant to be touched or held or kissed or loved. Meant to be a good friend, a comfort in the desolate sands and hot winds of the desert, but never more than that, not for someone like Jaemin, who is all too happy to stay in one place forever. 

For Jaemin, Donghyuck has _always_ been more than that.

“So where are you off to next?” Jaemin asks, casually. They’re eating takeout from Jaemin’s favorite local place, and Donghyuck’s feet are thrown up on the couch, one of Jaemin’s blankets draped over his legs. The light from the television casts flickering shadows across Donghyuck’s cheeks as he says,

“What do you mean?”

“The next grand adventure,” Jaemin says. He smiles. “Humor me and let me live through you.”

“Nowhere.” The words are sudden and when Jaemin looks up, eyes widened by surprise, Donghyuck looks down at his takeout and takes a bite. “I’m not going anywhere.” He looks up and his eyes meet Jaemin’s, electric, and Jaemin feels something rise in his chest, unbidden, _forbidden_. 

“But why not?”

“I loved to see the world,” Donghyuck says, shrugging. “I saw so many beautiful things, learned so much. But in the end, there are even more beautiful things here. Things I regretted leaving behind.” 

Jaemin frowns. “In this town? Like what?”

Donghyuck smiles, eyes warm and fond. “_Things_ that ask far too many questions.”

Jaemin blinks. The cavity in his chest is caving in on itself, butterflies fluttering in his bloodstream up and under his skin.

“Well,” he says, swallowing, resisting the urge to touch his fingers to his cheeks and feel the heat there. “I hope things work out.”

“I have a feeling they will,” Donghyuck says serenely, putting his chopsticks back into the takeout box for another bite.

Jaemin smiles, small. Hopeful. 

“I think so.”

**Author's Note:**

> i hope you all enjoyed my emo hours!  
i'm jaemin in this fic, by the way lol! i didn't apply to college this year and im kinda worried about it, even though i shouldn't be!  
i churned this out without thinking too hard, nahyuck is barely there, but i hope it got my point across.  
love you all, and any comments and kudos would mean the world to me <3
> 
> love from robin <3


End file.
